a badly punctuated stream of consciousness

When it rains it pours: PART ONE

That saying fits in so many ways right now that I couldn’t resist it as the title of this blog. Firstly, literally, the weather has been rather rainy these last few weeks.
Secondly because I go so long between blogs, but when I do post one, you can guarantee it’s gunna be loooooong. Cos I have so, so much to say.
Thirdly because Prac is snowballing into a LOT of work. I always knew it was going to be, but for the first few weeks there wasn’t really that much to do. I mean there was but there wasn’t. Anyway this week and next week I am teaching lessons, which is hard enough in English, let alone Japanese. Everything takes sooo much longer to do because you have to think so hard and look up so much in the dictionary just to say what you want to say. Plus, because I was sick last week I have stuff to catch up on. So prac is busy busy busy at the moment.
Next because my creative juices are flowing and I can’t believe how much I can produce when I sit down with a pen and paper and some spare time.Also because songs are floating around my head like fruit flies on ripe pawpaws. (what a random analogy. Lol) And I always have one in my head to explain how I’m feeling. So be prepared for a lyric-ful blog.
And lastly, because last week was a bad week, not just because I changed host families, not just because the homesickness finally hit, but also because I got sick. AND it was raining lol. So yeah, when it rains, it pours.

Here is your first song lyric. I have been listening to Norah Jones’ new album “Not too late” a lot the last few weeks. And this song in particular rings true right now:

Wake me up when it’s over
wake me up when it’s done
when I’ve made my way back home (ok so I altered that line)
wake me up
wake me up when the skies are blue
when the water is still
I will not watch the ship sail away so
Please say you will
If this were any other day this wouldn’t get the best of me
Today I’m not so strong
So bring me down with a sad song
When it stops, then you’ll know I’ve been gone too long
Don’t shake me awake,
Don’t bend me or I will break
Find me somewhere between my dreamsWith the sun on my face
I will still feel this later on
But for now I’d rather be asleep
-Norah Jones ‘Wake Me Up’

And once again, months, even years ago, somebody wrote a song and put into music and lyrics exactly what I’m feeling right now. In my last blog I was going really well, but my how things change. Have had a hell of a week. Changed host families on Sunday (21st Oct) which was fine, but I was sad because I really loved my first host family and felt like I’d only just gotten to know them and I had to leave. Plus, I didn’t know it at the time, but I was already sick, which was probably why I was SOOOOO tired and why the change of host families upset me so much because my emotional reserves were nil. And why I was so frustrated and had so little patience with my new host mother and brother at the start. All I wanted to do was sleep and wallow in homesickness (for the previous hostfamily, not home…yet) not put on a happy face and be a good guest. Of course I DID put on a happy face and be a good guest, but it was a real stretch. I had a tiny bit of a sore throat at that stage, but I thought it was simply because I was tired and a sign that I needed an early night and it would get better, which is what usually happens to me when I start to get run down. It’s my body’s early warning sign that if I don’t take care of myself a bit better I will get sick. So I had an early night, and woke up the next morning feeling better and went to school. School was fine, but I had a headache which got slowly worse throughout the day. The food that day I seem to remember was also a struggle to eat too, so that didn’t help. It’s so much harder to steel myself against food I’m not keep on when I’m tired. Also, the sore throat came back towards the end of the day. By the time I got home I was just totally exhausted, and didn’t feel like being babied by the well-meaning, but frustrating host mother. I realise that she is used to dealing with a 7 year old who can’t look after himself, and that she didn’t know me at all, and that she was only trying to help. But by the end of Monday night I was practically fuming at the overprotective way she was treating me. Looking back it is obvious that I was tired, had little patience, and was probably taking it all too much to heart. And getting used to the new family, I didn’t yet know their routines or they mine, and I was sick, but didn’t yet know it, so I was pretty frustrated at being told to do things that I had already done or was going to do anyway, or at not being allowed to do things for myself. It was all the little things that were getting to me, like not being allowed to fill up my own cup of water, that basically made me feel like they didn’t trust me and thought that I was incapable of looking after myself.

I just want to say again now that I realise they were only trying to help and that they probably didn’t think I was incapable of looking after myself, but my independence was very much offended. I ended up going to bed very early that night, not just because I was so tired, but also because I was so frustrated, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep smiling and being polite when underneath my rubber band was close to breaking point.

Went to bed that night, but woke up about midnight with a fever and very very sore throat. I knew immediately that it was tonsillitis (I know the self diagnosis isn’t always correct. But I’ve had it so so many times in my life, that by now I am pretty darn sure when I have it) and that there was no way I was going to school Tuesday, and that I’d probably have to go to the hospital (They don’t seem to have doctors surgeries here, just hospitals, and I had to go because we have to get doctors certificates if we are off school, and also to claim any money back on insurance). But it was the middle of the night, and I knew there was nothing to do but wait til morning. Unfortunately in my midnight feverish stupidity, I forgot that I had some Aspirin in my bag, and maybe if I’d taken some I could have killed the fever, or atleast had some relief, and maybe I’d have been able to sleep. But I didn’t take any, so I tossed and turned for the rest of the night and ended up throwing up a few times. It wasnt fun. At 6.30 (breakfast time) I got up and managed to explain to my host mum that I was sick and that I couldn’t go to school. Then I went back to bed and eventually did manage to sleep.

At about 9 my host mum woke me and we went to the hospital. I felt like hell, but I knew I had to go so I could get medicine to get better. We got there and had to wait in line forever because I’d never been there before so had to fill out all the forms about medical history. Which was no easy feat in Japanese. Plus, my head was pounding and my stomach had started to feel unsettled again. Then, on our way to the part of the hospital we needed to be in, my host mum ran into someone she knew and stood there having a conversation for about 15 minutes. And they kept talking to me and making me make conversation, which I really didn’t think was very nice at all, considering I can’t speak Japanese, and I was sick as a dog, making the Japanese even harder. Eventually we went to the waiting room of the next place and waited. And waited. By the time they finally let me in, I was feeling close to tears and like there was a chance I might vomit. I thought I’d be ok tho, I’d just go in, they’d look down my throat and see that I had tonsillitis, give me a script and we’d go. Well, that’s what happens in Australia anyway. But no. Not in overprotective Japan. They asked me what was wrong, I tried to explain that my head was pounding, my throat hurt like hell and my stomach was feeling rather dangerously unsettled. They stethoscoped me, told me to stick my tongue out and say ahhh, did the usual checks. Host mother and lady doctor are discussing something I don’t understand, while nurse stands around waiting. Then they move me to another chair, and stick a tube in my mouth! I haven’t yet been able to explain that I have a very weak stomach and a very strong gag reflex. But most people do have quite a strong gag reflex when things are SHOVED DOWN THEIR THROAT! Ok, so this wasn’t put down my throat, but it was far back in my mouth, and they said I had to just hold it there for 15 minutes. I’m sure she said 15 minutes. There was air coming out of the tube onto the back of my mouth/throat and I think it was supposed to be sterilising my tonsils, but I’m not sure. I was already feeling queasy, and that was the final straw. I tried to hold on as long as I could, but I don’t think I lasted much more than a minute before I threw up. And then everyone seemed all surprised, which I didn’t understand because I’d already said I felt like I might throw up when they asked me how I felt, and then they stuck a bloody tube down my throat. What did they expect? Sheesh.

I’m not sure if they were going to send us to the other ward anyway, or if it was a result of me vomiting, but once I stopped, they sent us to another waiting room. Didn’t tell me anything about what I had or medicine or anything. Just sent us away. I don’t think they knew yet honestly. And we waited. And waited. And waited. It seemed like a very long time. I don’t know what time we went in to see that first doctor, but we left home a bit after 9, the hospital was only about 10 mins drive, and didn’t get to see the next dr til 12ish. I still had a pounding headache, but at least my tummy felt a little better after the throwing up. Finally did see the next doctor, she did the same thing with the stethoscoping and stick your tongue out and say aah. Then we went to yet another room. I didn’t understand what she said to me but lay down on the bed and waited while she left the room. My hostmother was still with me. Lady came back, and with the use of a denshi jisho (electronic dictionary) they managed to explain to me that they were goinig to give me a blood test… WHAT!?!?!?!?!?!?! People! I have tonsillitis! I don’t need a bloody blood test! Then they managed to explain that after that they might need to put me on a drip! What went through my mind at that stage was exactly what went through Bridget Jones’ mind when she is caught lying about being on the phone to Professor F.R. Leavis, (who died in 1978.) #$%*#%%&#^#%^@%& pretty much sums it up. And I really, really wanted my mum, and knew it was only a matter of time until I started to cry. But I could tell it wasn’t going to be avoided, so I tried to explain that I’m not real good with needles. Told them that I would probably faint, and might then start throwing up again, but that that is just my usual response to needles. They didn’t seem to believe me. Or maybe they didn’t understand. They seemed to understand fainting and vomiting, but I don’t know if they understood that I meant they are the usual responses of my body to needles. Or if they did understand, they didn’t believe me.

Because of course she is just a 20 year old Australian girl, who is probably delirious from fever and can’t speak Japanese anyway so why would she be able to predict what will happen if we give her a needle? Well, you see Japanese doctors, I know ONLY BECAUSE IT HAPPENS EVERY BLOODY TIME! And if you need further proof, ask the nurses at the Rockhampton Blood Bank. Or, my mum. Or if you need to ask somebody who is actually in Japan, actually in Komatsu, at this present moment, ask Amber, because she happened to give blood at the same time, so she saw the whole thing. Poor girl.But of course I didn’t say that, even if I could have I wouldn’t have. Because I am too polite. But if I could communicate better I certainly would have stressed the fact that I’m not good with needles some more. And if I didn’t feel so wretched. But instead i just resigned myself to it and tried not to cry.

So they gave me the blood test. I was so exhausted and felt so awful and wanted my mum so much by that stage that even tho the needle didn’t really hurt,( and because I have had so many bad experiences with needles in the past, most recently my notable blood donation, I have developed a bit of a complex about them) I started to cry. And once I started I couldn’t stop. It wasn’t the needle, that was just the catalyst. It was everything: the lack of sleep, the splitting headache, the sore throat, the vomiting, the whole scariness of hospital, missing my other host mum who I’d at least developed a relationship with and trusted, the homesickness which was overwhelming at that stage, and particularly the fact that my mum wasn’t there to hold my hand tell the nurses to just let me go home and sleep. So I cried and cried and cried. I think it was the first time I’d cried in Japan at that stage. All I can say is that I think the crying distracted my body from fainting, because I didn’t faint, or throw up. I was still lying down though. Anyway I just kept crying and I couldn’t stop. At first they didn’t seem too worried by the crying. But after a while I think they figured out that I’m not good with needles (which was really very perceptive of them, don’t you think?) and so they actually ASKED me if I WANTED a drip. Oh yes, pretty please! …..NOT!

So I got out of the drip. Which was a relief. Didn’t stop the crying though. They left me and my host mother there in the room and I don’t know how long we were there for, but I cried myself to sleep. And I needed to sleep so much, and just felt so wretched, that I was pretty damn pissed off when they woke me up about 1pm. And my head was still pounding and my throat was still killing. We left that room and went to yet another waiting room, but fortunately didn’t have to wait for long. Went in to see yet another doctor, who had the results of my blood test. Isn’t it funny how much of a difference bedside manner makes. Not that the other nurses and lady doctors hadn’t been nice, just I didn’t like them very much. Maybe it was psychological. Maybe it was the fact that none of those lady doctors and nurses did anything I wanted. They gave me needles and stuck things down my throat and made me throw up. But they didn’t tell me what was wrong or give me prescriptions or let me go home. And, somehow, because nobody was telling me anything firm but just kept referring me to the next place, I guess I felt like they didn’t know what they were doing. This of course isn’t true, it is just the Japanese procedure I think, to wait for a blood test to confirm things before you tell the patient anything. But it left me feeling like I possibly wasn’t in the company of the people who could actually help me. But this last doctor, I liked him. And I think, looking back, the reason I liked him was two fold. Firstly, his bedside manner obviously just clicked with me. Which is why I commented on the fact that it makes such a difference to a patient’s comfort levels. And it’s interesting because I don’t think it’s something the doctor can control, it’s just a personality thing, and it in no way indicates their competency medically, but it can really make a difference to the patient I think. Anyway, so straight away I felt more at ease because of his x factor bedside manner. And when he was going through the same stethoscope/say aah routine as the others, somehow I felt like he knew what he was doing. Then he pulled out the blood test results. Which I didn’t understand at all, it was all kanji and numbers and it would have been gibberish even if it wasn’t in Japanese. But he explained in broken English (which was another reason I liked him!) that I had tonsillitis! What a smart man! So I liked him cos he told me what I wanted to hear, which was basically just confirming what I already knew. And then he made me lie down and felt around my stomach, which hurt in some places when he pressed it. And then he pulled out this little poster and showed me where it hurt and explained in Japanese and English that I had gastro as well. And that I had probably been showing symptoms of it for about a week. The only symptoms I had had was a tiny sore throat the previous 2 days, and extreme tiredness. Oh and I almost threw up when they tried to make me eat seafood on the Saturday night (3 days before), but I am pretty sure that was the seafood, although the gastro might have made me more sensitive than usual. But the exhaustion, and the resulting negative emotional state all seemed to make sense when he said I’d had the bug for about a week. So then I liked him because he gave me answers! And then he wrote me a script and let me go home. Which was the last reason I liked him J.

So I still felt like hell, but at least I knew I was nearly about to go back to the host family’s house to sleep. But there was still more waiting to be done. Had to wait for the doctors certificate, and then had to wait in line to pay. Which was very expensive, as Japanese hospitals are in general apparently. I think that is probably because they make patients see a million different doctors and give them a million different tests that they really don’t need just to jack up the price. Ok, so I’m sure they don’t do it to jack up the price, I’m sure they do it because they want to be quite sure what is wrong. But it doesn’t make being sick any easier, waiting for hours and hours and going from waiting room to waiting room. It was about $180, which I paid in cash because we were told before we left that if we had to go to hospital it would be expensive and we would need cash. So I’d kept money away just incase I had to go to hospital. Lucky. But I should be able to get the money back on insurance so it doesn’t really bother me too much.
Then after we got my pills (3 little round ones and a sachet of powder that I had to pour into a little rice paper cone and fold up and swallow….it was a huge pill in the end. About the size of a chocolate covered almond. I’m not kidding. It was bloody huge. 3 times a day!) I went home, had some lunch (no thanks host mother, I don’t want radish! Yes plain rice will be fine, at least that wont make me vomit, please just let me go to bed) and went to sleep. Slept fretfully on and off all afternoon. Woke about 6, went down for dinner, then went back to bed, even though I wasn’t really sleepy at the time, but still felt crappy, and didn’t really feel up to playing happy families. They wanted me to take a bath, but I declined. Really don’t think a 20 minute soak in a 41degree bath was going to be beneficial. (because I’m not used to it, the hot baths sometimes make me woozy anyway, even when I’m well, so I don’t think that it is wise when I have just had a fever and been vomiting all the previous night. Haven’t you ever heard of tepid? Tepid, people! Tepid!) So went back and lay in bed listening to Norah Jones on iPod and crying and feeling homesick. Eventually slept. Woke next morning at about 9 (sleep in! huzzah!) still felt pretty yuk, went down and had breakfast, which was plain bread (couldn’t find my vegemite, I was very disappointed, and worried I’d left it at previous host family’s house), took my pills, and went back to bed. Listened to a lot of Norah, felt very homesick, drifted in and out of sleep and read ‘Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance’ all day. Got up, had dinner (plain rice…no I still can’t stomach radish, or miso soup host mother.) and went back to bed to read and listen to Norah.

The following day (Thursday 25th Oct) I got up at 6.30 and I felt sort of ok, but not great. Went down to tell host family I couldn’t go to school again that day. I probably could have gone, but I think if I had I would have been sick again by the end of the day. So I spent the day in bed again, reading and watching stardust on my ipod. It really really brightened my day, not just because I had been longing to watch tv or a movie the whole time I was sick (because yes, although sleep is very important, one cannot sleep 24 hours a day. And the rest of the time, one wants something one can engage in without actually making any effort, like watching tv. But tv and movies in Japanese were a big no go, because it is much too much effort and strain to try to understand. Plus I didn’t want to have to engage in conversation with host family, especially as everything my host mother said to me at that stage was still irritating me immensely, so I just stayed cooped up in my room for the most part). Anyway startdust is a lovely story and anyone who hasn’t seen it should, I think. And I just loved it because it was in English, with lovely English countryside and beautiful Claire Danes and gorgeous boy with gorgeous English accent. So it was overall, the best thing to happen to me all week. I would have watched it again that night, if my ipod battery didn’t run out.

Friday morning I felt ok, so I went to school. Was still very tired though, but managed to make it through the day. And it was good to get out of the house. There were tiny little whole fishes in the school lunch that day, which I just wouldn’t have been able to stomach, but I didn’t have to eat them because the doctor had said I couldn’t eat meat until I was better. I think he may have said fish was ok, but for me it wasn’t, it would have made me vomit, so I got out of eating it. Went to bed very early that night as was so tired.

Saturday I was feeling pretty good, spoke to my host mum about what to do that day. The weather was awful, so we couldn’t go to the mountains to see the kouyuu (autumn leaves) like we had been planning, and I had some shopping to do, so I asked if I could go to the shopping centre. By this time my host mother and I had developed a bit of a relationship, and I had been able to assert gently that I am actually quite capable of doing a lot of everyday things for myself, because I am not 7, so she wasn’t getting on my nerves quite so much. And now it is pretty much fine. Still, there are some things that I feel are overprotective, like the fact that if I haven’t drunk all the water in my water bottle by the end of the day she makes me tip it out and wash the bottle. Because apparently if I drink water that is a day old, it will make me sick. …. I’m not so sure about that. But I do what she says just to be polite. Yet, strangely, they made a big deal about the fact that I don’t have to wear a seatbelt in the back seat of cars in Japan. Seatbelts are automatic for me, so I just put them on. But even if they weren’t automatic, I would still put them on because of the obviously safety benefits. Anyway first day (day before I was sick) when they drove me and my host brother to school, I put my seatbelt on. And he laughed at me. And the mother was like ‘oh ellen, it’s ok you don’t have to wear it in the backseat, see how tatsuya (host brother) isn’t wearing his? (he was standing up and sitting down and bouncing around all over the place, while the car was in motion! And she didn’t even care!) you don’t have to waer it it’s ok.” But I politely said that it is a habit for me and I would prefer to wear it thanks. And I think it is so odd that she is worried about the day old water but not her seatbeltless 7 year old. And I think I would rather take my chances with day old water, even if it meant I got sick again and had to go to hospital, which I would hate, but I think it is very unlikely. But better that than death by windscreen, if you ask me. But I don’t drink the day old water, and I keep my seatbelt on.

Anyway Saturday I spent the morning chatting and playing with host brother and mother, and went to the shopping centre and wandered around for a while, did a bit of warm clothes shopping, and then met up with Tegan and Jemima. It was really good to chat to them in English and just hang out, after the week I’d had cooped up and frustrated and alone and sick. Jemima had also had tonsillitis and been to hospital so it was also good to compare stories. Oddly, she got the drip but not the blood test :S. When I got home from the shopping centre I was very very tired, and feeling very homesick. Had dinner with the family and went to bed early, because I had to get up and go to school next day. When I saw that I had a missed call on my phone from my folks, it just tipped me over the edge and I wept and wept until I eventually fell asleep. :-(
Sunday I had to go to school in the morning cos my class had a cooking thing on. So I went and made makizushi (what aussies would call sushi. The kind of stuff you buy at sushi bars) with them and ate that, which was nice. But sucky cos had to get up early on Sunday. Then after lunch, when all the kids had gone, I went and played the piano in the music room for over an hour. Which was bliss. God I miss my piano and my trombone. Piano especially though because it’s my emotional release. So in this time of extreme emotional disturbance, lack of piano is very difficult. And it’s good to be able to play even just for a few minutes, at school. So I played and sang and just revelled in it for an hour, which was lovely, and I really needed it.

Then I rode my bike back to host family’s house and we went to the mountains to see the autumn leaves. I didn’t really think about it much, but of course it was a very windy road in the mountains, and I got a bit car sick. Didn’t throw up, fortunately, but had a really bad headache. I should have taken a Kwell before I left home but didn’t think about it. Oh well. I did get to see some autumn leaves but as we only had a few hours of daylight, and it was quite a drive to get to the top of the mountains where all the leaves are red and orange, we only went about halfway up, and then looked for a bit and came back down. I don’t know what I was expecting, maybe a bushwalk or a picnic or something, but we got there, got out of the car, looked, took a couple of dodgy photos, and left again. So it was a bit of an anticlimax. On the way home we stopped in a little down that had a market going on, and wandered around there and got some icecream, so that was nice. But the trip to go see the autumn leaves was a bit of a let down really. And especially since I had a bad headache, was a bit disappointing. But the icecream was good J
Monday was school again. It went fine, but had a headache all day. Lunch was some rather unappetizing fish (I don’t mind fish, but only in fillets….dont like to have to eat the tails and everything. And this fish really wasn’t very nice, the kids were all saying it was yuk. I dunno maybe it was how it was cooked or something) but I managed to force them down the hatch. I was tired, and the headache was getting worse throughout the day, so that by the time I got home I was really feeling rotten. And I couldn’t take any panadol because I was still on the tonsillitis and gastro pills. Got home, had a shower and a very very short bath, but got out cos it was too hot and I felt too sick. I was close to tears just from the pain of my head, but my stomach was feeling ok, until I started to eat dinner. I told my host mother I had a headache, but when I started to cry eating dinner I think that was when I realised it was a migraine. I tried to communicate that, she seemed to understand, and sent me to bed. Went to bed. 10 minutes later I threw up. Went back to bed. 10 minutes after that I threw up again. Followed that pattern for about an hour, crying all the while until I eventually fell asleep. It was hell and I wanted to die. Migraines are just awful things. I was pretty sure it was a migraine but I don’t think my host mother believed that it would only last 8 hours, until I got up the next morning and was fine. I was so so so relieved, because I really never ever want to go to hospital ever again.

And fortunately I have been fine ever since J

And that is the end of part 1. BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE! The next blog is this week, with all the little bits of thought that i have been writing on my laptop at lunchtime at school! So please read on! I separated them cos right now in this word document that I’m writing it in, this is 10,000 words long! So I thought it would be easier to read if it was separated. Thanks for reading this far J
Love to everyone

posted by Ellen of Taranganba @ 6:12 PM